


A Winter Night

by Talullah



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works
Genre: International Day of Slash, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 13:51:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2194158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/pseuds/Talullah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A kiss in a chilly winter night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Winter Night

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to jaiden_s for the beta. All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Written for the [International Day of Slash](http://www.libraryofmoria.com/a/idos.html), for nienna_weeper, who requested Erestor/Legolas, luscious, stars, devour.
> 
> Yeah, I know that Legolas saw the sea for the first time late in the Third Age, but please indulge. ;)
> 
>  **Prompts:** fanfic100 prompt 099: writer's choice.
> 
> [Disclaimer/Blanket Statement](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/profile)

**Lindon, 3430 Second Age**

Two young elves lost in a world of grown-ups, busy with dark and fearful things should find a common way out of their boredom and please all with their new-found friendship. Pity that expectations rarely live up to realities, and Legolas of the Greenwood took immediate dislike to Erestor of the Falas upon their acquaintance, no doubt spurred by young Erestor's disdainful squint at him, no doubt caused by young Legolas's overly tilted nose. Despite Lindon being a much smaller place than it is usually thought, Legolas and Erestor managed to skilfully avoid each other after their fortunately short first meeting and limit their interaction to curt nods that conveyed more distrust and unwillingness to reconsider the other than politeness.

On his part, Oropher of Greenwood took no great pains to stimulate his grandson's burgeoning friendships or enmities. The boy had accompanied him to watch and learn, and though one could never have too many allies in these dark times, Legolas was still young enough to afford keeping at bay the people he favoured not, especially foreigners of little consequence such as the young half-Noldo. War was coming and boy's quarrels were to be forgotten soon.

Now for Galdor, it was a different matter. He had brought his nephew to court at his sister's request and with Círdan's blessing, but against his will. Erestor was in Lindon for all the wrong reasons, the first being his unhealthy obsession with a father that did not deserve the title. His brother-in-law had married his sister, impregnated her within half-a-yen and left the Falas before Erestor was seven, claiming that the Falathrim way of life was not for him and that his Noldor roots called him. Bastard. What he had seen was that his kinship to Galdor had not brought him the favours he had expected. He had not even bothered to pretend he wanted his wife and little Erestor to accompany him, the only good Galdor could think of pinning to him.

Now Erestor tried too hard to look Noldor, and disdained those who were not, to please a father who wouldn't remain in town long enough to meet his son after forty years... Galdor had wept Erestor's bitter tears and had hoped for a change of heart that hadn't come yet. It stabbed him that the boy couldn't see that he, Galdor, was his father. He had provided for him, taught him his tengwar and his sums, took him to sea, calmed his night fears, told him about the birds and the bees when the time had come. It was him, too, who had dealt punishment when needed and though Erestor was fully grown now, it was hard for Galdor to resist the urge of bending him over his knee and delivering a few well-placed slaps each time he watched his nephew's snide glances at Legolas. The only thing holding him back was compassion. Erestor was hurt, bitterly disappointed and feeling that he had failed somehow by not earning his father's love. Legolas was just a scapegoat, unfair as it was.

After a month and a half of barely concealed hostilities and endless meetings, Galdor had stopped hoping for an improvement of their relations and of Erestor's behaviour and had simply started hoping that no squabble would take place before the end of the dratted meetings and their return home.

* * *

The night was long and cold. Gil-galad's halls were elegant with their high-ceilings and wide windows, but winter in Lindon was trying, even for weather-hardened elves like Galdor. As the banquet dragged on, the roaring fireplaces seemed less capable of offsetting the humid drafts. With a glance from his distant end of the table, Erestor excused himself before the desserts started arriving. Galdor raised an eyebrow but his nephew simply shrugged and hid a sour face behind his hair. Long before Erestor reached the end of Gil-galad's dining halls, a multitude of servants in the architectural maze of columns had erased him from his uncle's worried eyes.

* * *

An hour later, another young, lonesome elf sitting far higher at the King's table was finally excused. Legolas had yawned enough to earn Oropher's irritation and a few laughs from Gil-galad, but his efforts had finally been rewarded. He stood, thanking his regal grandfather and the Noldor's High King for being excused with a heartfelt bow. Exercising all his self-control, he walked out of the hall with the slumped shoulders of the truly tired, but as soon as he was out through the doors, he straightened his back and took a deep breath. True, the night had been long and cold, but it was the inactivity combined with the endless, pointless discussions in which he took no part that wore him.

He had known all along that his role in his grandfather's entourage would be a purely decorative one. Oropher might call it education, but what he wanted the world to know was that all things thrived in the mighty Greenwood, his house included. Legolas had thus expected for his presence to be required during meals and official occasions, but to be generally forgotten otherwise. That had not been the case, and now he descended from the palace to the harbour with a sense of relief for being alone and free for the first time in weeks. As he walked down the hill, the wide avenues leaving Gil-galad's palace narrowed and wound into a veritable labyrinth, now dark and uninviting, but Legolas kept on walking, listening intently to the growing roar of the sea echoing in the empty streets.

It made him uneasy. There was something about the smell of the sea and the noises, those rolling waves... it was both menacing and enticing, and he feared the violence barely contained by the dark hues of its surface. He had tried in vain to find the opportunity to be closer to the sea, but Oropher had only ever let him see it from afar. There was something in his grandfather's eyes, a subtle squinting that had worried Legolas. What Oropher had failed to see was that he was not a little boy anymore. Legolas was able to make his own choices.

And so he walked on, starting to feel the bite of impatience. The city did not live up to Gil-galad's enthusiastic description of order and ease. Every time he felt he would finally find the way to the harbour, he met another crossing instead. The scents and the sounds were stronger down here but Legolas felt no closer. He leaned into a wall, looking at the clouded sky, the first hint of exasperation leaving his lips in the form of a low curse. Legolas put his hands to his face, trying to concentrate and rested thus as the whirlwind of his thoughts subsided and a plan formed. The solution to his problem was almost at hand when a door banged, bringing him an unexpected source of aid.

He located the noise coming from two streets back and he hastened to find the hurried staccato of boots on cobble stone. Whoever it was moved fast, but Legolas was a good tracker for his young years. At the turn of a corner he saw a billowing cape. Something vaguely familiar about the wisps of wild hair flying felt oddly out of place, holding him from crying out. His own footsteps were much quieter, thanks to the soft soles of his Silvan shoes, but they were certainly audible to another elf at close range, especially when he broke into a run. Why did the elf not stop then?

Legolas reached him before he could make more conjectures. A hand on the shoulder, a friendly smile and the beginning of a question died on his lips when a red-eyed, sour-mouthed Erestor turned to face him.

"You?!" Both exclaimed.

Erestor gathered his composure first, straightening his back with an undignified sniff. "What do you want? What are you doing here?"

Legolas opened his mouth, but all of a sudden his little night adventure seemed too infantile to confess to the spiteful Erestor of all people.

"Taking a walk. You?"

"The same." There was a tremor to Erestor's voice and another loud sniff. For an instant Legolas was almost amused, but the smile never reached his lips. A single tear rolled down Erestor's cheek, and he wiped it furiously before it reached his jaw.

"The way to the palace is easy enough. Walk to the end of the street, turn right at the first two entrances you see and you should find the Lower King's Square from where the Court Road leaves." Erestor turned and started walking away in the opposite direction, but Legolas followed him, holding his arm in an impulse.

"Are you staying out all night? What's wrong with you?" he asked.

Erestor tried to shrug him, but he failed. "No, and it's none of your business. Now unhand me."

Legolas would have. Even in pain Erestor was prickly and cold, but there was that tremor in his voice again... Legolas held his arm faster.

"You're the last person I would..." He stopped himself, took a deep breath and restarted. "Is there some place where we can take a drink?"

"No. Everything in Lindon closes by midnight, King's orders."

"So where are you going, then?"

"Told you, none of your business."

"Come on," Legolas insisted good-naturedly. He did not like Erestor, but that could change and he seemed to need company. Erestor's explosion took him unaware.

"Why don't you just leave me the fuck alone? What kind of a sadist are you? You must be really enjoying this, you sick bastard." Erestor freed his arm and pushed Legolas' chest with both hands.

Legolas's fist clenched, but Erestor was too quick for him, turning and running away. Legolas was angry - he had only tried to help and certainly did not deserve the insults. But on the other hand, he felt sorry for Erestor. There had been an expression of raw hurt in his face. On an impulse he knew to be stupid, he took off and chased Erestor until both ran into a small, irregular square that strongly reeked of fish. The fish market, a corner of Legolas' mind informed him even as Erestor turned to face him.

"Why, why are you still here? Can't you just leave me alone?" He panted and sounded now more tired than hurt.

"I just want to-" Legolas reached out his hand. Obviously he just wanted to help, for no rational reason he could devise. He closed the space between them and tentatively placed his hands on Erestor's slumped shoulders.

"Listen, you don't have to tell me anything. I just don't think it's right for you to wander alone at night in that state, alright?"

Erestor's shoulders jerked in a barely contained sob, prompting Legolas to close the distance between them in an awkward hug, moved by compassion and a vague sense of duty rather than affection. The awkwardness seeped into a few clumsy claps to Erestor's back

Erestor's hands rose to his waist, gripping so tightly on his tunic Legolas felt a couple of stitches give. A ragged breath set off a seemingly endless wave of sobs. Legolas bit his lip and held Erestor tighter. At length, Erestor's crying subsided into deep sighs and sniffs. The wind around them had calmed but the night had grown cooler. He searched for a handkerchief in his pocket and gave it to Erestor, who slowly drew apart and tried to compose himself.

"I'm sorry, I don't normally cry. I don't ever cry, in fact." He handed the sodden kerchief to Legolas who politely refused it.

"Keep it." He delicately patted Erestor's back. "Sometimes we need to put things out, you know?"

Erestor raised a doubtful eyebrow at him. "So the mighty Greenwood warrior doesn't think me weak?"

Legolas snorted. "I'm not mighty, though I intend to become mighty, and no, I don't." He rubbed his palm on Erestor's arm.

"We should go back."

Erestor looked at the sky and Legolas followed his gaze. The clouds were gone and some stars shyly shined, but no signs of dawn yet lit the city sky.

"I can't go in right now. My uncle..." Erestor replied.

"Did you have a fight with him? Is that why you're upset."

"No!" Erestor emphatically shook his head. "No," he repeated lower. "Uncle Galdor is my best friend and he's probably worrying sick over me. Is just that if I go back like this he'll know where I've been..."

"Alright... So do you want to walk around a bit?" Legolas offered.

With a sniff, Erestor nodded and looked around, realizing for the first time where they were. "Ah, the Fish Market. We're not far off from the port. Do you want to go down there and wait for sunrise?"

Legolas grinned. "Yes, that's exactly what I want."

Erestor started walking, and in a couple of street turns the scent of the sea hit Legolas straight on the face, stronger than ever. Before them a dark mass of water swayed back and forth, thundering against the rocks. The power of the vision almost brought tears to his eyes, but the clenching in his stomach returned, holding him in check.

Erestor expertly guided him through the landed fishing boats, moving along the waterline apparently with no second thoughts, while Legolas followed behind timorously. The sea, fascinating as it was, lapped too close to his feet, barely tamed. At any moment a wave could rise to devour them and no one would ever hear of them again. It was with a sigh of relief that he greeted Erestor's change of course in the direction of the warehouses. He tried the door on one and clicked his tongue when it didn't give.

"These people in Lindon are more suspicious than us at the Havens," he said with an apologetic shrug as he lead Legolas through an alley and found another more welcoming door with quick hand skills Legolas decided were best left without inquiry.

Inside the warehouse it was pitch black and a mouldy, spicy smell mingled with the omnipresent oceanic notes. Legolas caught Erestor's sleeve and fumbled his way behind him until his eyes adjusted. They climbed a staircase and walked across a large room with covered windows.

"Spice dealers." Erestor informed. "Probably still smuggling some from Harad, though any trade with them lot is now strictly forbidden."

"Yeah, tough times," Legolas said, knowing too well that neither of them had seen other times.

Erestor stopped, looked around as if orienting himself and said, "There!" walking decidedly to one of the long windows and tearing down the curtains. "East," he informed Legolas who walked up to him in slow, careful steps now that he realised the floor boards were much thinner than the ones in any talan he had ever been.

Erestor tossed the cloth to the ground and pointed, "Sit. I'll be right back."

Legolas gingerly lowered himself to the fabric, trying not to cringe at the gritty feeling of it beneath his fingertips. Erestor ran back down. Legolas could hear him moving around and some clatter, but he concentrated instead on the view offered through the dirty glass.

Erestor was back soon enough, carrying two steaming mugs. He offered Legolas one and sat by his side. The vapours from the mug told Legolas of far landscapes with sun and sand in quantities he could not imagine, no matter how many books he read.

"Are you sure this is alright?" he asked, after a careful sip.

Erestor nodded. "Yeah. At least it would be at the Havens, though people here are a little shifty. In any case I doubt we'll meet anyone before we leave. This place has insolvency written all over it."

A long silence followed as both enjoyed their tea.

"You know... I told you, you didn't have to tell me anything but if you want to tell me you can." As soon as the words left his mouth Legolas realised they were so mangled they almost lost their meaning. He buried his nose in the mug. From the corner of his eye he could see Erestor's head turning to him then quickly turning away.

"Why can't Lord Galdor know where you've been?" Legolas asked in a whisper.

Erestor sighed. "It's complicated and I've been a fool."

As he said nothing, Legolas pressed on. "Who were you with? Was it a lover your uncle doesn't approve of?" Again his mouth had run ahead of his head. "Sorry, no right to ask," Legolas immediately said, but a derisive snort from Erestor had already given him the answer.

"No. My father. And no, Uncle Galdor doesn't approve of him, doesn't even suspect he's in the city and that I've met him and now I can plainly see why. I've been a fool, Legolas, looking in all the wrong places for what was all the time right under my nose..."

Erestor's dejectedness returned and Legolas wrapped his arm around his shoulders. "Why don't you tell me everything?" he softly invited. Erestor shook his head, resisting the thought, but then the words started leaving his mouth in lumps, then more fluidly until rivers of disappointment, hurt, neglect ran before them. Legolas rubbed his arm now and then, watched as Erestor fought the tears now and again and bravely continued, baring before him all the hurt and humiliation he had known, and all the love he had received from his mother and Galdor.

"And this is why I don't want my uncle to know I've visited him," he finished. "Galdor is the only father I've ever had."

Legolas tightened his grip on Erestor's arm and kissed his hair above his ear. Some sort of jolt passed between them as they stared at each other. Every thing seemed different now; in the short span of a few hours, Legolas had come from thinking of Erestor as a stuck up, pretentious ass, to feel compassion for him, then friendship. His father always told him that after a certain age friendship would become something rare and slowly developed but at this moment, Legolas understood Erestor and had his trust. What could more be said, until that kiss?

And Erestor looked at him in awe, red-rimmed eyes and slightly hanging jaw looking surprised and avid in equal measure. Legolas didn't dare to think what he wanted to think. He should speak, say something.

"I'm sorry," he blurted. Erestor quickly turned his face and started shrugging Legolas's arm off.

Legolas held him in place. "I'm not sorry," he said. "I just don't want us to become enemies again, not that I was ever yours. I didn't know what to think of the kiss and you didn't say anything and it doesn't have to mean anything because now we're friends and I don't even know if you like boys or if you'll think bad things of me, but please, please, please don't be offended and don't go away. And look, there's dawn, at least stay a little longer, then you can tell your uncle you were in some sort of tryst and while it's not exactly true it wouldn't be a complete lie and he wouldn't even have to ever know anything and-" Erestor finally put Legolas out of his misery with a swift kiss to the lips. Both sat staring at each other, faces inches apart.

"I always thought you were beautiful from the first moment," Erestor said. "That was one of the reasons I didn't like you. I guess I was envious."

"Why?" Legolas' eyes widened. "Look at yourself..." In truth he hadn't always thought Erestor was beautiful. He had thought him plain and stuck up, that was it. But now, that incredible night, the sea salt lingering on his lips the kisses, those amazing kisses... All Legolas could see was wild hair framing perfect features, bright eyes, an aristocratic nose, luscious, thoroughly kissable lips. Erestor's lines were not as hard-sculpted as most Noldo's nor was his body as wiry, but rather well toned and elegant. He took in the sight, drawing nearer and neared until their lips were touching again, now tentative tongues touched, salt and spices mingling, hands gaining life on each other, until they shyly touched skin. They broke for air, again gazing at each other in awe.

"I had never kissed anyone," Legolas confessed.

"I like the way you do it," Erestor whispered. They kissed again, revelling in each other, touching, almost worshipping.

"Look," Erestor said at length. "There's the sun." They leaned on each other as the sun rose in the sky, splaying pale golds on a still grey sea. By Erestor's side, the water looked less fearsome, the light brighter, the air milder. They watched in silence for long, listening as the first signs of life rattled below.

"We should probably get going," Erestor said at last, reluctance heavily lacing his voice.

Legolas pressed his lips. "We should. Can I, will we see each-"

"Yes!" Erestor kissed him again. "Yes. Can you think of an excuse to escape this afternoon?"

Legolas sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'll find one. Just tell me where and when."

"After lunch, library? There's a section no one ever visits..."

"I'll be there."

"Good - you know all about me, now it's my turn to hear all about you."

"It's settled then."

They kissed again and left for the palace, walking perhaps a tad too close for sworn enemies.

The negotiations took their time still, but too soon Legolas and Erestor faced their return to their homes. None knew they would not return to Lindon in their lifetimes, but they had no doubts they would meet again.

Their goodbyes were said in an old warehouse of a ruined shipper, a place for spice and mould and sea things and young love. Their kisses were fresh as new, their hearts strangely consoled by hope in a time that promised none. Looking in each other's eyes they simply promised.

"We'll meet again, son of the forest."

"We'll meet again, son of the sea."

 

 _Finis_  
_October 2007_


End file.
